


When the Golden Sun Sets in West

by Seravee (Uriels)



Category: Sky: Children of the Light (Video Game)
Genre: Dark Lore, Destruction of the Golden Wasteland, Golden Wasteland Backstory, Oil rich Golden Wasteland meets Valley of Triumph tech, Or me looking at Sky on a much darker perspective, Other, Story in glimpses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25930588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uriels/pseuds/Seravee
Summary: The waning of the Golden Land like the sun. The way it rises in the east, and why it sets in the west when it shouldn't.The Golden Wasteland's demise in glimpses. And how the Valley of Triumph took part in its fall.(A personal take about the lore of what became known as the fifth realm of Sky, the Golden Wasteland.)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It tickled my curiosity how the Golden Wasteland could be in such state when it is sandwiched between two of the most progressive realms when it comes to technological innovation.
> 
> Is it mere coincidence that the Golden Wasteland has all that oil and the Valley has all these nice Citadel mechanics that operates on its own?
> 
> But honestly, this is all just to unleash my inner annoyance of how boring the races are.
> 
> As said in the summary, only snippets will be shown. Changing POVs from the spirit roles maybe.

“What may the soldiers of Tsadi be of service to the followers of Samekh?”

The captain, large and imposing, greets the men in dark robes lined with a middle white. They are a speck in the sandy dunes of their golden land and one of them, the one in the middle, sticks out like a sore thumb. He is all smiles amidst the serious group around him.

He welcomes them as hospitable as he can. They are their first visitors in the longest while. The dragon’s roars loom in the horizon.

“We are most thankful for this warm welcome, Captain, but,” the dweller of Valley paused, the slightest smile emerging from his mouth. “I’m afraid you got it all wrong. We are the disciples of the Elder Mekh, He Who Watches West. We hail from the Western Valley.”

Captain’s eyes widened, he was embarrassed but humbled. One should not make a mistake in referring to another’s Elders, lest yours be disrespected by them. “My sincerest apologies. I wasn’t aware Valley paid their respects to the twin Elders separately.”

The larger of them all, the one most noticeable but unimposing, takes the floor of the opened dialogue. He starts it with a chime of laughter. It lightens the mood. “Our siblings of the Eastern Valley are partial to the Elder Sah, He Who Watches East. When in our home, we are mostly labeled as such. In foreign lands, we are united under the embrace of Samekh. Do not worry! You are not wrong!”

He is all laughs and jovial aura. The Captain who has made a mistake lightens up his mood from his previous mistake. One of the shorter Valley visitors has introduced him as their Champion and that they have come for diplomatic purposes, to build relationships in between neighboring realms. Locals of the Golden Land gaze at them with curiosity in their eyes before being ushered back. 

The Champion peers at the locals with equal fervor, most especially the children. He makes a good Champion, even if the Captain is not aware of what he is a champion of. Perhaps, the Champion of Mekh. Mayhaps, there is a Victor of Sah on the other side of Valley. When a child asks if Mekh is the elder with fringes in his statues, the Champion corrects her that it is Sah. Idly, the Captain wonders as well about the twin Elders. They cannot afford much education about the Elders of other realms when they are alway raged by dragons, and must rely on the blessings of Tsadi more than anyone else.

Either way, he expects to learn more as their dialogue deepens.

He respectfully ushers the foreign visitors in the temple built for the Elder Tsadi. As they walk, the Captain is surprised to find one of the so-called disciples of Mekh approaching him. 

“While what the Champion says is true about us being under Samekh,” There is a sliver of disgust in his voice, but the Captain does not notice. “We are still more partial to Mekh. If you would be so kind and call us that collectively, it will ease relations better between the Golden Land and Western Valley.”

Behind them, another disciple pulls into the Champion so they could be of eye level. She is in all scowls and frowns.The Captain, busy engaging with the one disciple who approached him, does not hear their conversation. “Minimal interactions, Champion of Mekh. We do not want to engage with these barbarians more than what is necessary.”

The Champion frowns at her. He is not happy with the arrangement and what she called the people of the Golden Land, but he cannot do anything about it. There is a promise Western Valley can make to help the Golden Land and he is hopeful that they could finally put a stop to the dragon infestations.

Another roar shrills in the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spirits used/mentioned in this chapter:
> 
> Backflipping Champion (Champion of Mekh)  
> Saluting Captain  
> Proud Victor (Victor of Sah)
> 
> This story makes use of Samekh as both male Elders. Sah of the East is the one with the long fringes (like Gary Oak lol) and Mekh of the West is the more feminine hair cut one.


	2. I will see you at the bridge where souls meet

The Soldier raised his brows in bafflement of the Captain's words. "They want _what_? A share of our resources? What does this dusty, forsaken land give that might be of anyone's fancy, much less those uppity people of the Valley?" His breathing is much deeper, foreboding, entrenched in a place where the air is stiff and stale. The strong accent he had been trying to withhold for so long has released itself. 

"If they want lumber, they go to the Forest. If they want the freshest water and tropical air their frigidity can't give, they go to the Prairie."

Captain does not look at him, shame and doubt wanning over his senses. On the table that the Soldier had prepared for him in his meager tent, he eyed the cup of alcohol offered. He should not be drinking when the dangers of the dragons loom anytime, but the idea has become more and more pleasant. Instead, he clenched his fist to control the urges and said simply "The Goldenstream."

A greater understanding has manifested itself of the Soldier's expression. Still, the Captain would not look. "The dunes are unkind to those that lay waste to its blood. What do they want the stream of oil for?"

Captain sighed and stirred, and unbecoming of him, slid in a fluid stretch of his ams on the table and laid his head. His voice was muffled, but the Soldier leaned closer. "I do not know, but what I do know is that the authorities have already accepted. Once the public had known of this venture the Valley offered, they were quick to give up some rights to the Goldenstream."

"And with the pressure, the leaders were quick to acquiesce."

They were fighters in an elite force of warriors who carried the pride of Golden Land beyond the borders of other realms. Politics had nothing to do with them but as the foot soldiers who have seen the dangers nature can bring, they fear for this venture. 

Still, they are fighters of an elite force of warriors that has been fighting for too long. Their lives are dedicated to fighting the dragons, until they don't. The public, the civilians, even the bureaucrats—they wouldn't understand, as much as their warriors understood them.

This young Soldier does not make itself be known to him, as much as the Captain does. The Light in him does not let himself dwindle. "There has always been pressure. It has been like that since the dragons have slain our brethrens from time immemorial."

Captain lifted himself from the temporary slumber on   
hard table and looked at the soldier straight in the eye. "The people are tired of running, hence the more recent pressure."

"We are not running, we have been fighting!"

" _We_ ," the Captain interjected in a pressed tone "have been fighting. The people have been running. Do not pool them to the likes of us, not everyone can fight. It's just that we have been tired far earlier than they have."

They settled to silence that is not made in haste. It has been a slow waxing in their conversation when two not quite opposing opinions stretch and still burst. They have been fighting for too long and too forward, never quite approaching waywardness such as accepting help from foreign land. This is their home, those are the dragons that also call their humble dunes as home. And yet they cannot control them, cannot help but let fear strike their hearts. All they could do is fight and run, and even then, they fail miserably. How dare they call themselves dwellers of this piece of golden land when they couldn’t solve their own problems?

The Soldier broke their miserable silence first. “What do they intend to do with the Goldenstream?”

Captain’s mouth plaids in a thin line. “Much like us, they intend to use it to power mechanics.”

“Our use of Goldenstream has been minimal.”

“Because we do not have the technology to consume much of it, anyway.” the Captain waved. “The Western Valley dwellers claim that they have the expertise. All they needed was to have an ample amount of power source, of which we conveniently have.”

“How will they take it out? We have enough trouble getting a few as it is.”

“I hear that the dragon infestation will be dealt with first, and then extraction comes thereafter.”

“What becomes of us when the dragons are gone?” The Soldier is slumped after his question. Outside, the wind picks up, fluttering and scattering dust in the air. The Captain, however, found amusement in his concern.

“Silly boy, we retire! I’ve always wanted to come to Prairie. I hear they have these wonderful boats that sail up above the clouds.” the Captain is snug around his staff, his trusty partner in every distress that he sounds. It is his most important item in war, powered by Goldenstream when he and his crew are in dire need against dragons that may have lurked. He wished for a day where he may be able to use its abilities in a more festive manner.

The Soldier took his last sigh of lamentation. “Will it really be that easy? After all these years of struggle, the Western Valley will just save our hinds just like that?” He does not see what lies before him. He is looking back, looking back far enough to recall the faces of _mother_ and _father_. 

He thinks of when he was left orphaned after his parents had been killed by the dragons, when he was nothing but a young babe. He doesn't think his survival has been anything more than sheer luck for his mother has easily covered herself from the attacking dragon, humming to her son for one last time, _I will see you at the bridge where souls meet._

He does not think that he will be looking at the Captain one last time, not knowing that he will be the first to die in the venture of Valley in the land of the Golden Realm. His title, forever the Courageous Soldier.

His only solace, his Captain’s warmest smile. “I don’t know. But I’m hoping for all the best. Maybe, these people really do have the answer to our problems. Our sacrifices all these years will not be in vain.

_Mother, Father, I will see you at the bridge where souls meet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Goldenstream is what I'll be calling the oil present in the Golden Wasteland becase I want it to be more prescious resource sounding hehe. Inspired by the novel Sha Po Lang's Violetstream Gold.
> 
> Spirits present:  
> Saluting Captain   
> Courageous Soldier


End file.
